Second Kiss
by no white horse for me
Summary: "'You loved him too, didn't you? You loved Fred like a brother, right' She nodded" Their second kiss after the fight. RonxHermione


_**SECOND KISS**_

The first kiss was a spur of the moment, the kind of thing where the only thought running through your mind was _we might never get to do this again, so what the hell?_ It had been a dance, confusing and different, but they had liked it all the same. They had loved every second of it, loved every moment their lips melded together and his arms around her waist as he responded with so much enthusiasm Hermione had actually felt her feet leave the ground. She had looped her arms around Ron's neck and had held him so tight it was a wonder he didn't collapse from lack of oxygen.

Their first kiss was hot and fiery and amazing.

Their second was, in the least, not.

It was about a week after the Battle at Hogwarts. Fred's funeral had happened about 2 days ago, and it had been a depressing ceremony. Every single person present had cried through-out, and Ron had clutched Hermione like a lifeline while the two cried together, their tears mingling bitterly. Harry was less open with his emotions whilst he held Ginny close, letting her tears stain his shirt, but Hermione had seen his own tears slip down his cheeks before he hastily wiped them away. Hermione had helped Ron to his feet when he had to say goodbye to his brother, and she was the one who kept him on his feet, who stroked his hair while he sobbed over Fred's body. She had cried too, silently, when they had walked away, and Ron had collapsed into her arms, not letting anyone but her comfort him. It had done him good to let it out, to cry.

So it was over the next two days that was most awkward at the Burrow. Hermione and Harry were left, worrying if they were getting in the way of anybody. Well, actually, Harry spent as much time inside his room as the rest of the Weasleys', crying just as much over the loss of his last tie to his father. Hermione had tried in vain to tell him that Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks had died doing what they found right, and it would do no good to have him moping in his room for the next 6 months of his life, but he was thick-headed and wouldn't listen to her. Therefore, Hermione was left to spend time with the only person in the house who wasn't bawling her eyes out – Fleur.

Fleur was annoying and rude at the best of times, but with Hermione she was very helpful and kind, telling her that 'boys are eediots that need a firm 'andling.' Hermione had nodded absentmindedly, thinking about Ron up in his bed, letting only herself talk to him – not his mother, not Ginny, not even Harry – just Hermione. Fleur had chatted Hermione's ear off, talking about many things, and Hermione hadn't paid her a skerrick of attention, until one day Hermione had heard a sharp _crash!, _and a gasp. Hermione had turned swiftly, her wand held out, but Fleur was already dealing with the broken plate, on her hands and knees as she picked up the pieces. She was mumbling in French something horrid, and she hadn't even noticed her knees had started to bleed from sitting in the bits of broken plates.

"Fleur." Hermione had said, loudly enough that she thought Fleur would have heard her, but Fleur just kept muttering and trying to collect the glass in her hands, causing more harm than good with the viciousness and the slices she was getting in her own palms. Hermione had repeated herself, more firmly and much more loudly, and she had watched in both confusion and horror as the woman before her had hung her head and cried, wrapping slim arms around her shoulders and letting the tears fall into her cuts.

Hermione had dropped to her knees – steering clear of the glasses – and had taken Fleur's delicate hands in her own. "Why are you crying?" She had asked when the tears had subsided and she was starting to lose feelings in both her hands from Fleur's tight grip.

"Bill 'as not been the same. 'E will not talk to me, 'e just cries, every night. And it is killing me, 'Ermione, it is killing me!" She had sobbed, dropping her head onto Hermione's shoulders and letting the tears flow freely as though just with Hermione being there she felt much more comforted.

"Fleur, you just need to let him grieve for a bit. We...They've all lost a brother." She had caught herself before she could finish her sentence wrongly – Fred wasn't her brother, even though he did feel like it. He teased her and played with her and joked around with her, and she loved it. George was much the same, always laughing and poking fun at her good-naturedly, and she had adored it, adored feeling like part of such a large family. "He'll come around, you just need to hold him close, tell him that you're here. You're his wife, Fleur. I'm sure the only thing he'll need is you and to know that you're okay." Fleur had nodded dazedly and stood, swearing in French when she saw the damage she had done to herself.

It was the night after talking to Fleur that Hermione heard it. Coming from just down the hall, inside Ron's room. The sound of someone sobbing softly, crying so quietly that no one else could hear. Hermione rose from the bed shakily and wrapped herself into a dressing gown, daring a quick peek at Ginny, who was sleeping soundly with a smile on her face that she only acquired when she was around Harry or thinking of him. Picking up her wand off the table, Hermione snuck out the door, closed it soundlessly and tiptoed down the hall, barely missing the creaking floorboard that Ron had warned her of countless times before.

Coming to a stop outside his room, she pressed her ear against it and listened closely. Yep, there it was. Sobbing, just quietly, but she wouldn't have even heard it had he not put a Muffliato spell on the door, but that seemed to have escaped his memory. Hermione slid the door open silently, and slipped inside, making no sound whatsoever. Ron was on his side, curled into himself as his body shook with tears. Hermione thought her presence had gone unnoticed as she leant against the wall, watching him and debating with herself what to do, when he suddenly broke the silence.

"You loved him too, didn't you? You loved Fred like a brother, right?"

He turned slowly to face her, light blue boring into dark brown as he stared and she blinked, confused. And then, she nodded. She did. She did love Fred like an older brother, and she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that he was dead – that she was never going to hear his voice again, see his smile, anything. Ron sat up and moved over, opening his arms. She sat next to him and snuggled into his chest, feeling his heartbeat against her ear, steady and comforting.

"I'm sorry I haven't exactly been wonderful for the past week." He murmured as he held her close, and she pressed closer, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"It's fine, Ron. I completely understand." And she did. She knew that Fred's death had hit him hard, hit him like a smack in the stomach. It had hit the whole family hard. Ron just held Hermione closer, burying his nose into her dark brown curls. And then, Hermione sat up and swivelled so she was looking down at him. "But you have to know, that I'll always be here. Always, even when you don't want me. I'll always be waiting to catch you." She whispered, and in what felt like years, she saw Ron smile. It was a glorious, wondrous sight, one that she had missed to no end.

"Thanks, 'Mione. And I'll always be there for you, till the end of the world. And don't you forget it." He was sitting up now, and he pulled her close, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to her forehead.

They lay like that, wrapped in each other's embrace, her arms over his torso and his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She was pressed against his side, and she felt so wonderful, so complete, so whole. She was falling asleep like that. And then, his voice broke through the silence.

"'Mione?"

Hermione's eyes flew open, and she made a noise in her throat to show him that she was awake. She turned to look up at him, reaching up a hand to brush it against his cheek, so softly that it's like a butterfly kiss. He peered down at her, and she could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes. And then he tipped one finger under her chin and tilted her up so that he could brush his lips against hers.

To anyone else, it looked awkward and tasteless, weird and freaky. But to them, even though, at first, it was awkward and strange, it felt amazing. He pulled her onto his lap, and she straddled him, taking his face in her hands and drawing him closer. One of his arms slid around her waist and the other tangled into her dark brown hair.

They kissed for what felt like a million years, and when the two pulled back, they still wanted more. She slid off his lap and curled into his side, resting her head on his chest. "G'night, love." He murmured sleepily against her hair, but Hermione didn't hear – she was already asleep, breathing soundly. He held her closer and fell asleep too, dreaming of the girl wrapped in his arms.

The next morning, when Molly Weasley slipped into her youngest son's bedroom, she jumped violently at the sight that met her. Hermione was there with Ron, both lying above the covers and their arms tangled together. She had her head on his chest, and he was holding her tightly, the pad of his thumb tracing patterns on her arms. Normally, Molly would have had a fit, screaming and shouting and banishing Hermione from her house. But she didn't. She leaned against the door-frame and watched them. They had quite an interesting relationship, even in their sleep.

Hermione would whimper, her face contorted in pain or discomfort, and he would pull her closer, stroking her hair as he did so. Molly had waited for so many years for this to happen, and finally had. After so many years of waiting and expecting, they had finally discovered their feelings for each other and were acting on it.

And Molly was proud of them, proud of her youngest, most awkward son for falling in love with such a beautiful, smart, intelligent girl. Molly Weasley couldn't have been happier, except if Hermione Granger got married to become Hermione Weasley and had children.

Then, Molly would be overjoyed. But it was just a matter of time.

**alrightee then, a random story that I'm quite proud of! It's a oneshot, as most of my stories are. But I'm brainstorming a few story ideas, including one called 'Smoke and Mirrors', which for all you Bade fans is how Beck and Jade came together. It's also a bit on Jade's background. So, if you like both Harry Potter and Bade, then you will want to check it out. And '10 reasons why', my multichap Seddie fanfic, is on HIATUS! I HAVE MAJOR WRITER"S BLOCK FOR THAT! And I've written the next chapter for 'Unrequited Love' which should be up soon, but it's on major pause at the moment, because I need to focus on a few other things. So, here's the rundown on my stories:  
>Smoke and Mirrors - a brand new Bade fic that I will start ASAP<br>10 Reasons Why - Major writer's block because I will have to re-edit the first chapter so that it coincide with chapter two!  
>Unrequited Love - Next chapter has been written but I want to finish the next chapter before I post it which may be a while, so you will have to bear with me!<br>Anyway, enjoy this story and tell me what you think, please!  
>HPloveofmylife<strong>


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